


like a bad dog

by problematic_pleasures



Category: The Turning (2020)
Genre: Barebacking, Dirty Talk, F/M, Forced Orgasms, Forced Sex, Implied Forced Impregnation, Implied Non-Consensual Anal Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Touching, Rough Sex, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Sex, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22567915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematic_pleasures/pseuds/problematic_pleasures
Summary: Kate has a bad dream.
Relationships: Miles Fairchild/Kate Mandell
Comments: 17
Kudos: 88





	like a bad dog

**Author's Note:**

> I'm promising myself I'm gonna write smth happy for these two (even if it's just fake happy) but for now have this noncon fic that's very dark. enjoy!

Kate opens her eyes the instant she hears the door creak. A tall, lanky shadow looms in the doorway. She left her lamp on when she fell asleep reading, and she’s slightly blinded as her eyes adjust. She rubs at her eyes as she sits up slightly and asks, “Miles? What are you doing here?”

Miles steps into her room and closes the door behind him. “I had a nightmare.” 

His voice is barely above a whisper, achingly tender. Kate can’t help but gape at him in shock—he’s been so ornery, almost downright cruel. Her first instinct is to kick him out of her room, her second instinct is to yell at him. But he’s looking at his feet and she can see the line of his shoulders trembling. He looks entirely like the scared, orphaned boy Kate originally assumed he’d be.

Kate sighs and pats the bed beside her. “Okay, c’mon, then. You can stay here for a bit, until you feel okay to go back to your room.”

His curls bounce when he looks up, smile hesitant and gleeful. “Really?”

She nods. “Nightmares suck, I get it. Come on.” She pats the bed again and waits until he walks around the bed and climbs under the cover to finally turn off her lamp. She moves her abandoned book from her pillow to the bedside table and settles in. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah,” comes Miles’ delicate voice. “Sorry for being such a wimp.”

“It’s okay,” Kate says, already yawning, “everyone has nightmares.”

“Yeah,” he says again. “Still.”

She means to respond again, to reassure him that nightmares don’t make him weak, but she’s so tired. Despite how Miles has behaved, it’s kind of nice to share a bed with someone again. There’s a respectable distance between them but he’s impossible to miss, and amazingly enough the comfort of not being alone lulls her to sleep. 

She wakes to a hand low on her stomach and something hot and hard pressed against her ass. She startles and blinks, forcing her eyes to adapt to the darkness. Moonlight streams in but none of it hits the bed; it makes her feel vaguely like she’s floating at sea, aimless amidst darkness. She pushes the thought away.

She looks over her shoulder to see the lax and gentle face of Miles. He’s sleeping soundly, and spooned all against her back. Kate can feel her face color with a blush when she realizes the hot and hard thing is his erection.

“Teenagers,” she mutters almost mutely to herself. She turns back around and tries to decide what to do. She doesn’t want to embarrass him. Miles was already feeling vulnerable after the whole nightmare thing, and the fact he came to her for comfort feels like a significant shift in their relationship. But she needs to get away. His hand twitches every so often, closer to the hem of her panties underneath her sleep pants. How he worked his hand under her sweater in his sleep, she’s not sure. 

She shifts slightly, tries to wriggle closer to her edge of the bed in hopes his hand will fall away and maybe Miles will roll back over. 

What happens is his hand tightens on her stomach and drags her closer. Movements that were sleep-heavy and clumsy turn solid and sharp, nails biting into the light fat of her stomach. She gasps but chokes on her inhale as he ruts against her ass.

“Mi-Miles,” she manages to say, looking over her shoulder again.

Gone is the sweetly relaxed face from before—he’s wide awake now, eyes narrowed and mouth drawn in an ugly line. “I had another nightmare,” he taunts when he catches her gaze. 

“Miles, stop.” Her voice waivers in the demand and she clears her throat before trying again. “That’s enough, Miles, you can go back to your room if you want to do that.”

“But I had a nightmare,” he says, voice back to the warbling, tender, scared tone from before. He laughs cruelly. “Don’t you want me to feel better?”

His hand slips beneath the waistband of her sleep pants and panties in one go. His hand feels enormous as he cups her and against her will, she shudders. His impossibly long fingers slip lower and spread her lips, the tip of one finger pressing against her entrance. 

“Miles,” she says, voice rough and hopefully sterner, “no. Stop. I don’t want this.”

“That’s what makes it fun,” he growls in her ear before pushing her pants and underwear down. His other hand sneaks around from under her and he presses his palm against her throat, holding her still. 

And still she stays as his hand between her legs continues to explore. He moves up to thumb at her clit, flicking the little nub. She’s not aroused and winces at the dry sensation, then watches in horror as Miles withdraws his hand to suck on two fingers before bringing them back down. 

He presses on her clit with two fingers and starts to rub, fast and hard. 

Kate cries out before he shoves two fingers in her mouth. The pressure is gone from her throat but his fingers nearly reach the back of her tongue. She gags around the intrusion and he rubs her clit harder. She tries to talk around his fingers but anything she does only makes him move harder, faster.

It doesn’t feel good, not really—not like when she gets herself off or how her last boyfriend used to tease her—but she can feel her orgasm cresting anyway. Her groin tingles with pleasure even as her stomach lurches with revulsion. He presses the fingers inside her mouth even deeper and she gags again, and again, and again, because he keeps doing it until tears and snot are streaming down her face. 

Kate realizes her hips are working to meet his fingers against her clit and she wants to stop, but she’s so close, and she wonders if maybe he’ll stop if she comes. She focuses on breathing through her nose and controlling her gag reflex and the flashes of pleasure that seep through the disgust. 

“Come on, Kate,” Mile’s hisses in her ear as he presses hard enough on her clit to hurt. 

Her orgasm hurtles through her fast and unsatisfying. She clenches around nothing, wetness growing between her thighs, and Miles keeps stroking her clit long past the point of oversensitivity. 

He finally removes his fingers from her mouth and she immediately inhales deeply.

“Miles,” she starts, voice wet with tears, “please stop. You don’t want to do this. You’re hurting me.” 

“Oh, that is exactly what I want,” Miles says. 

His voice sounds odd, deeper, rougher, but Kate doesn’t have time to linger on it as he shoves her pants and underwear down to her ankles before hiking one of her knees up. It leaves her open and exposed and she gasps sharply as she feels something wet and blunt pressing at her entrance.

“Miles, no,” she says again. She sounds like a broken record, like a fucked-up cassette tape, playing the same thing over and over and over. “Please,” she cries, turning and tucking her head into the pillow, “please don’t.”

Miles doesn’t say anything as he presses inside her. Despite the dryness, despite the resistance, he sinks into her in one fell thrust. She can feel his sac against her thigh; her skin is burning hot with shame and pain. Slowly he pulls out and pushes in again, repeats the motion over and over until there’s no friction, and Kate doesn’t know if it’s from his precome, her own slick, or—and the thought makes her feel even more ill—blood. 

He fucks into her slowly and more gently than she would’ve expected. She almost tells herself she can ride this out and survive it, face stuffed into the pillow as her only form of defense, except then his hand is knotting in her hair and yanking her face up.

He grins at her, all teeth and dark shadows, before kissing her. The angle makes her neck hurt, having to twist over her shoulder to meet his lips, but his hand is firm and unrelenting in her hair and keeps her in place. He moans into her mouth, force feeding them to her just like his cock plunges into her against her will.

“Oh, Kate,” he groans. His voice still sounds odd, but every time Kate tries to analyze it, he kisses her again, or thrusts inside her again, or drops a hand to flick at her abused clit. “Kate, Kate, Kate,” he grunts with each thrust. 

“Miles,” she gasps wetly back when he stops kissing her to breath. She sucks down air greedily and watches as his eyes roll back in his head, mouth hanging agape. He’s fucking into her faster, harder now, not that unlike from the way he relentlessly stroked her clit. His cheeks are splattered in red and his lips are flushed and Kate wonders if she looks similarly debauched.

“Miles,” she says again and notes how his hips jump. He likes it, he wants her to say his name. She opens her mouth to speak again but he beats her to it.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growls, “don’t try to act all sweet, like you love my cock inside your cunt.”

Kate swallows the words that were at the tip of her tongue. “I was just going to say your name.”

“If it wasn’t for Flora, I’d make you scream my name,” he spits out. The whole bed is rocking with the force of his thrusts and he still hasn’t kissed her again—too close, maybe. The thought spurs Kate on.

“I would,” she says with a sniffle that’s only slightly exaggerated, “I would scream.”

Miles groans. His hips slapping against hers make an obscenely loud noise but it’s almost drowned out by his next words. “Going to fill you up,” he mumbles, almost thoughtlessly, “keep filling you, until all you know is me.”

“Miles,” she starts, a new kind of panic filling her, “I’m not—you can’t, you can’t do that, that’s not safe.” In all the commotion and fear, she hadn’t really registered the lack of a condom, and it isn’t as though there’s anything else that could stop him. She starts to thrash in his hold but his arms only tighten around her. “Miles, you can’t,” she gasps out again, a plea.

“Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” He murmurs against her cheek as he thrusts inside her a final time, harder and deeper, filling her with the wet splash of his come. 

She shudders, frozen still by the horror overwhelming her. She needs to fight him, push him off, run, all of that. But his hands feel too large as they greedily roam her body, his whole form seems enormous as he rolls her onto her stomach, finally letting her aching leg rest again. He’s heavy and unrelenting on top of her as he starts to fuck her again, dick making sloppy sounds as his come slicks the way.

Miles doesn’t protest when Kate buries her face in the pillow again, although he still keeps one hand in her hair. He tugs occasionally, painfully, but doesn’t yank her up or force her to face him. He pushes her leg apart with his knees and gets closer, fucks her faster. She can’t quite breathe with her face against the pillow like this but the ache in her lungs is a welcome distraction.

She thinks she comes a second time, the friction of the bedsheets against her oversensitive clit and the primal pleasure of being filled overwhelming her better senses. Kate whimpers into the pillow as the faint clench of her orgasm pulls an answering one from Miles. 

He never slows, never relents, pulling out only long enough for Kate to feel a hot splash of come against her labia before he’s pressing in again. She doesn’t know how he has the stamina or why he won’t at least give her a moment to catch her breath, but she supposes it doesn’t matter. Her body has run out of fight, she’s simply too tired. She draws her arms close to her chest and tries to find comfort in her sweater, but Miles’ grunting and groaning distract her from the attempted peace in her mind. 

He comes a third time buried deep inside her; it feels like he’s pounding against her cervix, like his cock is inching into her throat with how deep he’s inside her. Finally, though, as he spurts a few streaks of come to join the rest, he slows. He stays inside her and his cock doesn’t soften, but he at least stops moving.

Kate raises her head shakily and takes a long, steadying breath. “Miles?”

“Wanted to admire the view,” he tells her. Indeed, he’s staring at where his cock is stuffing her full, where her skin is probably red from constant abuse. Her groin aches as he pulls out and she bites her lip on a whimper. He sits back and she glances at his glistening cock, covered in his come and her slick. 

Miles strokes his cock once, twice, the sounds wet and awful and impossibly loud, before he untangles his hand from her hair. He moves his hand to her waist, then her ass, and he pulls one cheek aside to expose her asshole.

Renewed fear rises like a tsunami inside Kate and she opens her mouth to scream but he’s already pressing inside. 

Kate starts and nearly topples off the edge of her bed. There’s a shadow by her bedroom door and she shrieks, scrambles backwards, and it isn’t until the shadow steps closer that she realizes it’s just Miles. Her bedside lamp is on, her book open and spine bent on the bedside table. 

“What are you doing in my room?” She asks sharply. _It was a dream_ , she thinks, _all a dream, it wasn’t real_. “I told you to knock.”

“Your light was on, and I heard you saying something. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Miles takes another step closer and gives her a curious look when Kate flinches away. “You were moaning.”

Kate’s cheeks burn. “That’s enough, Miles, go to bed.”

“You were saying my name,” he adds, lower, another step closer.

_ No, I was screaming it, in fear.  _ “That’s _enough_ , Miles! Get out of my room.”

He stops and stares at her. For a moment, her whole chest goes icy with fear that her dream is about to become reality. But then Miles is stepping back and turning toward her ajar bedroom door. He stops again with one foot into the hallway.

“Sweet dreams, Kate.” Then he’s done, door shutting with a quiet _snap_.

Kate lays back down and stays awake all night staring at her door, waiting for it to open again.


End file.
